Hollowed Existences

Summary:
~spoiler warning~ What would have happened if Bella hadn't jumped?...

Notes:
I sort of just started this little story for fun because I wanted to see as to where it might go. hehe xD. The chapters are going to be short, why? I don't know. My brain doesn't tell me its reasoning most of the time but I bet it has something to do with the fact that if i squished it all together it wouldn't sound right. Thats my guess. hehe xD. Oh and of course, I don't own Twilight, New Moon, or any of the characters. They are all Stephenie Meyer's creations. ^_^

7. Chapter 7

My eyes slowly opened and then shut tightly as the halogen light blinded me. I kept my eyes shut and tried to think of what had happened to me. I remembered Charlie and I getting into a fight, I remembered tripping and hitting my head and waking up in the hospital, I remembered being told what my injuries were and that I needed to go into surgery, I remembered asking what was going to happen in the surgery and then being given morphine when I became overly anxious and how the morphine took effect rather quickly, then I remembered… just before I fell asleep… I couldn’t remember. Something happened though… I saw someone…

My eyes snapped open and I sat up more quickly than I though possible. Before I could fully take in what I remembered, I fell back when a spasm of pain shot down my neck and spine and then remembered yet again, what my surgery had been for. As I groaned in pain, Charlie, who had been sitting to my left, woke up and looked at me.

“Bella! Your awake!” He looked anxiously towards the door, debating over something. He made up his mind and yelled, “Nurse! She’s awake!”

I looked from Charlie to the door and saw a nurse come in. All the while I became aware of the fact that I couldn’t move my head at all. When I tried, I felt something like metal, pull in places and press in others and I realized I had one of those metal headsets that kept my head and neck from moving. I also realized that there was something that was keeping my back straight. I’m not sure what it was but I was sure that it probably was a back brace of some sort so that my back would be able to heal properly.

The nurse checked over all my readings, my heartbeat, my breathing, and etcetera. When she told Charlie that I was fine, she turned to me.

“Isabella?”

“Just Bella.”

“Alright then. Bella, how are you feeling right now?”

I hadn’t really given much thought as to what I was feeling up to that point. I had mainly been concerned with Charlie and the nurse. I thought about it and tried to wiggle my fingers and toes. I had managed to, but I felt pain when I did.

“It hurts… when I move my fingers and toes. Is that normal?”

The nurse looked intently at me as if debating what should be said.

“Well, from what has happened to you, be grateful that you can move you fingers and toes at all. The surgery was very difficult, one of the most difficult ones we’ve ever done. As to whether or not what you are feeling is normal, I expect that your nerve receptors might be a little off for a little bit. We not only had to repair your broken bones but your spinal cord was damaged as well. It was a very difficult and time-consuming surgery. Be grateful you are alive. The survival rate of such an operation… well, let’s just say that you are very, very lucky. If we hadn’t had such an excellent doctor doing the surgery…”

“Carlisle!” I tried to get up but Charlie held me down. I remembered, every detail. Alice’s vision, the noise after I hit my head, the ‘morphine’ induced sleep, and Carlisle himself. “Charlie! Carlisle did the surgery, I saw him, I talked to him!”

Charlie looked at the nurse for conformation but the nurse had an odd expression on her face.

“I am sorry Miss. Swan but it was not Dr. Carlisle Cullen who did the surgery, it was Dr. David Mitchell. Perhaps you have not heard, but Dr. Cullen moved south to Los Angeles with his wife and family.”

I looked at the nurse for a long second trying to figure out what that look was for but I couldn’t come up with anything.

“No, I saw him! I talked to him! Dr. Mitchell handed me over to him and said, ‘Dr. Cullen. Your patient Isabella Swan.’ Carlisle talked to me even! He said, ‘You can’t stay out of the hospital for too long a time can you, Bella.’”

“No, you are mistaken Miss. Swan. One moment please.” She left the room and then returned five minutes later with Dr. Mitchell.

“Dr. Mitchell! Tell her about Carlisle, you talked to him, you handed me over to him! Remember?”

Dr. Mitchell looked from the nurse who gave a short nod, which I would have missed if I hadn’t been looking directly at her. Dr. Mitchell looked back at me and with a straight face said, “Miss. Swan, I performed your surgery. It was I who said that you couldn’t seem to stay out of the hospital for too long a time. That was I, not Dr. Cullen. Becky Smith, the nurse, was the one who handed you over to me.”

“What? No, it was Carlisle. I know that it was him, everything that happened to me I remember clearly. Alice and the message, the noises I heard, why I became so tired so quickly from the morphine… it all makes sense. Why are you lying and telling me it wasn’t him?” I couldn’t understand why they were lying to me.

The Doctor gave a worried glance to the nurse.

“Miss. Swam, you were probably hallucinating, it’s an affect of the morphine. The morphine can sometimes create hallucinogens… make you see things that aren’t really there. What reason would there be for us to lie to you?”

I thought about it over and over in my mind yet I couldn’t wrap my brain around the prospect of what I had seen and heard being nothing more then a hallucination. The more I though about it the more I also realized that I was sort of in a daze when I went into the surgery room. I was, for lack of a better word, out of it. My mind could have created an image that made me think of someone I would have wanted to see perform the surgery. Yes, that would seem like a more likely answer, after all, why would the doctors and nurses lie to me? When I began to feel better, I would then re-think everything.

I looked up to the doctor and nodded slowly, admitting defeat. I accepted what he said, for now. He nodded, bid his farewell, then left. The nurse, after checking all my vitals again, quickly followed suit.

I looked at Charlie and slowly held out my hand to him. He took it and gave it a slight squeeze. He then leaned over and kissed my forehead. I could tell I was tired and needed to rest. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. Then in a whisper almost inaudible, I said to Charlie, “They’re lying.” Without waiting for a response, I fell into a deep and soundless sleep.